


A special Throne to sit on

by AzraelGFG



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Face-Sitting, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, Oral Sex, Post S8, Queen Sansa, S8 fix, Shameless Smut, Smut, gendrya mentioned, lordskiss, sansan, what might could have happened, what should have happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 09:32:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18938203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzraelGFG/pseuds/AzraelGFG
Summary: Sandor survives Cleganebowl and Sansa gets a Throne she desired for a while.Set in Episode 8.06 after the scene in the Dragonpit.





	A special Throne to sit on

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mademoiselle_k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mademoiselle_k/gifts).



> Kind of inspired by this pic: https://imgur.com/9Tq88Zp

It was done. Bran was King and the North had gotten its independence.

Sansa had yet to realize that she would be crowned Queen in the North in a not so far future.

“You made,” Arya said and hugged her. “The North is free thanks to you.”

“Yes, but it still feels strange to me that I’ll be Queen.”

“There can’t be a better one for the throne.”

“Thank you.”

These words meant the world to Sansa. She needed to know that her sister supported her.

They returned to their camp outside the city walls since the Red Keep laid in ruins and most of the city was just a pile of rubble.

Sansa returned to her tent and poured herself a cup of wine before sitting down at her table overlooking if any raven scrolls had arrived in time.

Satisfied she took a sip, after seeing that no urgent letters had arrived. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes for a moment.

“Sansa!” Arya called excited and entered the tent.

“Arya, what…?” Sansa wanted to ask, but Arya interrupted her.

“Sandor is alive!” she exclaimed.

“What?” Sansa asked shocked.

“He is alive. He somehow survived and is in one of the septs in the city. I just heard from a few men.”

“By the gods,” Sansa said and felt tears well in her eyes.

Ever since she had gotten word about Daenerys burning down the city she had believed him to be dead. Arya had told her he was dead.

“I need to see with my own eyes,” Sansa said and grabbed her cloak.

They went back into the city until they reached the sept of the Stranger.

Sansa entered and several silent sisters were taking care of more wounded people Sansa could count.

The smell of burned flesh and pus lingered in the air.

 _The Stranger is in these rooms_ , Sansa thought as she slowly walked through the sept trying to spot Sandor.

_Please let him be alive. Please._

Arya touched her arm and pointed towards one of the pallets.

Sandor was laying there on a pallet. His left arm and both legs in cast.

“Septon, is someone taking care of this man?” Sansa asked the septon that just walked by. He looked exhausted and had dark rings around his eyes.

“We are too few my lady to take care of everyone all the time,” he said. “We found him under the rubble of the Red Keep. It’s a miracle he isn’t dead.”

“I see,” Sansa said. “I’ll have my man take him to my camp so he is tended to properly.”

“Do you know this man?”

“I do. His name is Sandor and he is my savior,” she said and turned to her sister. “Can you go back to the camp and get a few men to bring him to take him from here?”

“Aye, I’ll be back in a hurry.”

“Thank you,” Sansa said and Arya ran off. “And thank you too,” she added to the septon.

“We only try to ease the pain of those who need it,” he said kindly and Sansa nodded.

She knelt down next to the pallet and stroked away some strands of Sandor’s hair sticking to his forehead. His skin was damp and his face looked like he hadn’t been washed in weeks.

He groaned at her touch and slowly opened the eyes.

“Sandor, I am here,” Sansa said.

“Little bird…” he groaned. “Am I dead?”

“No Sandor. You are injured. Your arm and legs are broken.”

“I pushed Gregor through the wall into the flames…then everything collapsed…”

He groaned.

“Is Arya well?” he asked.

“Yes, Sandor,” Sansa said and felt her eyes water. “She is getting men to take you to our camp.”

“Your camp?” he asked weakly.

“Yes, I’ll explain everything to you when we are there.”

“Alright, little bird,” he said and tried to smile.

Sansa squeezed his unhurt hand.

“Never leave like this again,” Sansa whispered.

“I won’t…I promise…”

 

***

 

Arya returned not soon after with a few men who carefully carried Sandor to their camp outside the city gates.

Sansa made sure his tent was erected right next to her and he called for Samwell to take care of him.

Samwell washed him and put his arms into new casts after opening the old ones. Unfortunately, Samwell had to set the fractures once more because the septon and his septas hadn’t been able to do it properly. He had to do it or Sandor would never be able to walk properly again.

Sansa had stayed by Sandor’s side as Samwell had to put his bones back into place before putting on new casts.

Ever since every few hours, Sansa gave Sandor some wine with milk of the poppy to ease his pain.

A few days later Sandor finally woke up with the pain being endurable. His beard had grown long and Sansa offered him to cut it.

Sandor had growled that this wasn’t the job of a lady like her.

Sansa didn’t care. She wanted to do it. She wanted to be close to him. She had been sad when he had left Winterfell without saying goodbye.

She had hoped the night of the feast that he might understand the hints she had tried to show that she would like very much to be close to him.

She didn’t know how far she would have wanted to go that night, but the wine had made her brave and she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

Sansa took a scissor and started to trim his beard. While he watched her in awe, she told him of what happened. Of Jon killing Daenerys, him being found under the rubble. Bran becoming new king…and her becoming Queen in the North.

Sansa carefully soaped his throat to shave him and she watched him as she carefully shaved his beard on his throat.

She saw how much he trusted her.

“Thank you,” he said when she was done. “I didn’t expect to be shaved by a Queen someday.”

“I am not Queen yet.”

“But you will be and I shouldn’t be the reason there will be talking about you. You might have to marry to strengthen your reign and I don’t want to be the cause for you to not finding a fitting match.”

“Sandor you won’t be the reason for anything,” she said and took his hand.

“But people will talk about you and the hound.”

“People already talk about me. It seems you have forgotten most potential husbands see me as damaged good already, after Ramsay. No maiden anymore. No one wants the leftovers of another man or in my case even two.”

“You could never be damaged good, little bird.”

His words warmed her heart.

She cupped his cheek and leaned forward before she brushed her lips against this.

Sansa smiled to herself when their lips parted.

“I wanted to do it for a very long time,” Sansa whispered. “I hoped to kiss you in the night of the feast. Or that you might follow me.”

“To what purpose, little bird?” he asked, his voice shaking a little seemingly in disbelieve she had just kissed him.

“I don’t know. I just want you to follow me that night. I just knew you wouldn’t hurt me no matter what it had led to.”

“No, little bird, I’d never hurt you.”

“When the time comes for me to claim my throne…will you be at my side?” Sansa asked holding his hand.

“I’ll be your most loyal servant. No harm will come to you ever again. I’ll stand between everything that tries to hurt you.”

“No Sandor, you misunderstand. I don’t mean come with me as my shield, my guard or my servant…I mean as my future husband.”

“Sansa…I am not worthy of you.”

“Sandor, there can’t be anyone more worthy of me. You are the only man I know that would never hurt me and…after Ramsay…you are the only man outside of my family I don’t fear to touch me.”

“But look at me. I might be a cripple for the rest of my life…”

“Maester Samwell says you will recover completely.”

“But how long will that take? Months? A year? More? I would be a burden to you and everyone around us.”

“You are not and it would be just a small price I am willing to pay for a happy marriage, don’t you think?”

She cupped his cheek.

“We could make each other happy. We both deserve to be happy,” she said before she kissed him again.

She heard him sob lightly when their lips parted.

“Aye, we deserve to be happy. You more than anyone. I’ll gladly be your husband.”

Sansa smiled brightly.

“Thank you,” she said. “I know you will be good to me.”

Sansa kissed him once more before she got up.

“It’s time for dinner soon. I’ll have some chicken brought to you. Arya said you like that very much.”

“Very much indeed, little bird.”

“Good,” she said smiling before she left the tent.

She returned to her own tent and to get ready for dinner on her own. Tonight, she would dine with her other family members and some Lords and new small council in the part of the Red Keep that was still standing.

Sansa didn’t necessarily look forward to it. She would rather eat with Sandor, but it would throw a bad light on the North if she wouldn’t attend the dinner where all other Lords Paramount’s of the remaining six kingdoms would be present.

Sansa sighed and continued to get ready.

 

***

 

The dinner had been a boring affair. All lords had tried to gain the favor of Bran and Tyrion in the hope to get something for their own kingdoms.

Sansa hadn’t paid too much attention to it. She was rather watching Arya and Gendry interact with each other.

It was so obvious how much he has fallen for her and it seemed Arya was more open to his advances.

Sansa’s heart had started to beat quicker every time she had thought about Sandor that evening and what she intended to do later. She had a bold idea when she had gotten ready for the dinner, but she wasn’t sure if she would go through with it.

She wanted to catch up with the missed chance of the evening of the feast after they had defeated the dead.

“Good night, Sansa,” Arya said as they had returned to the camp. Gendry had come with them and Sansa was sure she knew to what’s purpose.

“Good night,” Sansa said and Arya left for her tent leading Gendry by her hand.

She made her way to her tent and her heart raced like mad when she passed by Sandor’s tent.

She stopped.

“I want this,” Sansa whispered to herself before she carefully entered Sandor’s tent.

He was still awake and looked over to her surprised to see her.

“Little bird,” he said. Next to him on the ground was a plate with the bones of at least two chickens.

“What are you doing here little bird?” he asked.

“Doing something I hoped to do already in the night of feast after the funeral,” she said and walked closer to Sandor camp bed. “We should have made us happy that night.”

“Little bird…” he breathed before she kissed him.

“I want you, Sandor,” she said. “I can’t wait until we are married. I want to feel you.”

“That could be a little difficult with just one arm,” he rasped.

“You think so?” she asked with a smirk and started to lift her dress.

Sansa’s heart nearly busted from her chest as she watched Sandor’s reaction as she lifted her dress skirts to her waists.

She felt her face blush.

“Sansa, you are…”

“Yes,” she breathed. When she had gotten ready earlier, she had known that if she would do this Sandor wouldn’t be able to help her with the laces of her dress, so she had not worn any smallclothes the whole evening.

She was only wearing her knee-high leather boots and Sandor now got a clear view of her private parts.

“It's not fair to torture a man like this little bird,” he rasped and Sansa could see his small clothes bulge out.

He definitely desired her; Sansa noticed happily.

Sansa let her skirts fall back down and swallowed before she dared to carefully touch the bulge in his smallclothes.

She didn’t know she could be this straight forward with Sandor. She wasn’t Arya after all, who certainly got what she wanted from Gendry.

Sandor groaned under her touch.

Sansa felt herself become damp feeling him harden under her hand even more. She stroked him a little through the fabric and he hummed.

Sans wanted to unlace them, but Sandor stopped her by covering her hands with his free one.

“Come here, I want to taste you first,” he rasped with a smirk.

Sansa looked at him confused. What did he mean by _tasting_ her?

“Lift your skirts,” he said and Sansa trusted him so she did as he asked.

“Now come here,” he gently said and Sansa moved until she knelt left and right of his head.

“Now sit down.”

“W…what? I can’t” Sansa yelped and felt herself blush. “I can’t just sit down on your face.”

“Since I can’t come to you for the Lords kiss, you need to come to me,” he said. “You will like it. I promise.”

“Alright,” Sansa said a little uncertain but excited what Sandor planned to do.

She sat down until she felt his mouth on her lady bits and Sandor started to explore her folds with his tongue.

It felt even more glorious than she had dared to imagine.

Sansa had her eyes closed and bit her lower lip as she instinctively ground herself against his face.

“Sandor…” she moaned just before she felt waves of pleasure flood through her body.

She had never experienced anything like this before.

“You sing a sweet song, just like I knew you would,” he rasped after she stood up again.

“Gods…that felt glorious,” Sansa said and licked her dry lips.

“Good,” Sandor said and she saw his beard moist with her arousal. “You can expect this many more times when we are married.”

“I am looking forward to it.”

Sansa turned her attention back to the bulge in Sandor’s smallclothes and started to work on the laces.

“Sansa, we can wait until we marry. We don’t have to go all the way tonight,” he rasped.

Sansa heard the message between the lines. _You_ don’t have to go all the way tonight.

The thought that he would set aside his own pleasure so she would feel comfortable warmed her heart.

“I want you, Sandor,” Sansa said and when she was done she pulled his smallclothes down until his cock was free.

Sansa lifted her skirts with one hand and slowly sank down on him to straddle him.

Sandor groaned and Sansa’s mouth fell slightly agape at the feeling of him inside her.

Sandor’s good hand rested on her hip as she slowly rode him, careful not to hurt his broken legs.

“Sansa…you feel glorious…” he breathed and Sansa blushed at his words.

She started to ride him faster, as she felt the same glorious feeling built up inside her once more.

Sansa moaned softly and he took her hand squeezing it gently, just as she reached her next peak.

It only took a few moments before she heard Sandor moan her name and she felt him spill himself.

Sansa slowly continued to move until she felt him soften. She leaned forward and deeply kissed him.

“That was nice,” Sansa whispered as their lips parted.

“Aye, it was,” Sandor said and stroked over her back with his free hand.

“I look forward to marrying you,” Sansa said.

“And I look forward to loving you all night long when I have more than one hand.”

“I look forward to this as well,” Sansa whispered sweetly.

Sansa yawned.

“You mind if I stay here tonight?” she asked.

“Of course not,” he said and moved a little on the small field bed. He held out his good arm as an invitation to snuggle up and she did so happily after making sure the blanket was over both of them.

She didn’t care she was still dressed, or that outside the tent thousands of Northmen surrounded them not knowing what their future queen was currently doing. She just got rid of her boots before she snuggled up to him.

She was happy in the arms of the man she loved.

“I love you, Sandor,” she breathed nearly asleep and she felt him kiss the crown of her hair.

“I love you too, little bird,” he whispered.

Sansa smiled to herself at his words just before she drifted off to sleep.

The End.

 


End file.
